


if there isn't anything more than this

by BeesKnees



Series: so much time on the other side (waiting for you to wake up) [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Brief and vague mention of non-con, Brief and vague mention of past suicidal thoughts, Healing, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Rape Recovery, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesKnees/pseuds/BeesKnees
Summary: “Where are you?” Chris murmurs in front of him now, as if he can sense the way that Leon's thoughts are drifting.“Here, with you,” Leon promises.---A year into Leon's recovery from Wesker's torture, he and Chris are living together again. They're building something. Claire is coming to visit.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield
Series: so much time on the other side (waiting for you to wake up) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749892
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	if there isn't anything more than this

Leon watches Chris sleep for a little bit. He's passed out on his stomach, breathing heavily, arm slung across Leon's hips. 

He likes sleeping next to Chris. It's one of the rare things that there are never any confused memories about. In their stupidly luxurious bed with the moonlight streaming in from the open windows, Leon never mistakes where he is or who he's with. 

Leon's restless tonight. He can't fall asleep himself, but it's almost enough to watch Chris. Unable to help himself, he traces Chris' lips with the pads of his fingertips. Chris stirs beneath his touch, blinking sleepily. It takes him a moment to focus and then he looks up at Leon.

“Can't sleep?” Chris asks, his voice gravely in a way that Leon likes. Leon shakes his head. 

“Do you want to get up?” Chris asks. Leon considers for a moment and then nods. 

“All right,” Chris says. He groans and then extracts himself from the bed. When they had first started sharing a bed again, Leon had been loathe to wake Chris when he found himself awake and tormented by strings of thought. He would slip out of bed and make himself a ghost amongst their apartment. But Chris had always woken up in a panic when Leon wasn't where he expected him to be. It had been a startling reminder that Leon wasn't the only one who was healing. In a way, it had helped Leon a little – it always did, to see these jagged bits of Chris that proved they still fit together. 

They'd come to an agreement that Leon would wake Chris to let him know when he was getting up. Some nights, Chris goes back to sleep with a murmur of ascent and that's it. Other nights, he'll get up with Leon. 

Tonight is one of those nights, likely because Chris knows that Leon has more on his mind. 

They step out onto their little balcony, the city still humming quietly around them. Leon's always surprised by how much air there is. It's a stupid thought. But the balcony is one of his favorite parts of their apartment – that there's always light, that he can always be outside with a mere step. 

They settle into their respective chairs, and Chris lights a cigarette and hands it over to Leon. Leon accepts it, taking a slow drag on it and then breathing out to watch the smoke plume.

“I'm not sure why you're so nervous about Claire visiting,” Chris says as he lights his own cigarette. Leon's eyes bob over to Chris, waiting for whatever clever thing Chris is going to say.

“She's going to murder me when she finds out that not only am I smoking again but I got you hooked on it,” Chris says teasingly.

“Well,” Leon says sardonically. “It was smoking or drinking. And it was drinking or killing myself.” He shrugs. Chris knows it's a habit he doesn't love, but it's something that eases him in strange ways. It's always an excuse to go outside. Something to do with his hands when he gets nervous around too many people. He still doesn't get that, but it doesn't change his paranoia. 

“Yes,” Chris answers, “tell Claire that in those _exact_ words.”

Leon can't help but grin a little. In the time since he “came back,” they've reached a level of transparency that Leon didn't think was possible to have with another person. Certainly, he didn't think he ever would. But as they'd struggled through the last first few months, they'd quickly learned that being transparent with one another was sometimes the only way Leon could force himself to be transparent with himself and vice versa for Chris. 

When Leon struggled with how or what he felt about something, his therapist would tell him to try and explain it to Chris. When he had his days when he was unyielding in his judgement of himself, his therapist would encourage him to imagine how he'd react if the situation was of the opposite making – if Chris had been the one taken. 

That had been a hard one to swallow at first. 

“Chris wouldn't have,” Leon protested. “Chris wouldn't have let that happen.”

Chris had laughed dryly when he heard that later on.

“What do you think I wouldn't do to protect you and Claire?” he asked. 

Some days, that tactic worked. Some days, nothing did. Those days, he had to just get through. He was haunted and tormented, and more Albert Wesker's Pet than he was Leon Kennedy. But as everyone had promised him, those days became less and less as time went on. They never went away entirely. Most days felt like a fight. 

They could go out on a walk and Leon would see a group of girls in their school uniforms, and he would be brought back to the girl Wesker sacrificed to teach him a lesson. Rooms without windows took him straight back to his basement cell. 

“Where are you?” Chris murmurs in front of him now, as if he can sense the way that Leon's thoughts are drifting.

“Here, with you,” Leon promises. He reaches out and tangles his free hand with Chris'. Chris' touch has become grounding. That took the most time, probably. But if anyone had asked Leon when he had first arrived in France, he would have never thought he would have wanted to have sex again. 

He still almost always has to see Chris' face when they sleep together. He needs to be on top most of the time. He knows he'll never give another blowjob as long as he lives. 

But holding hands makes him feel so unbelievably loved. There's a way that Chris kisses him that speaks to all the things that Chris always tells him anyway: that if there wasn't anything more than this, Chris would still be happy with it. That Leon is precious to him. That Leon is the one he chose and fought for and will continue to fight as long as Leon allows it. 

He's still afraid of that crush of sentiment some times. Chris Redfield doesn't do or feel anything in small measure, and Leon sometimes feels like could drown in Chris' love if he isn't careful. But, more often now, it buoys him. It astounds him. It inspires him. He's suffered so much than the average person – they both have. But sometimes, Leon can also look at Chris and marvel that out of everyone he could have met, he and Chris had here and now. That amidst time and tragedy and everything else, he and Chris have found each other and kept each other. 

Chris traces his thumb along the inside of Leon's palm.

“You don't have to see her,” he offers finally. “If it's too much.” Aside from the ill-fated first time Claire was supposed to visit, they had tried inviting her after they had first moved into their apartment. Leon had panicked the night before her flight was supposed to take off, though. Both times Chris was left to handle his sister while Leon fell apart.

He knows he owes Claire better – he owes Claire more. He knows that he needs to reclaim Claire in the same way that he reclaimed Chris. But some part of him is still scared.

What he's always loved about Chris – and now more so than ever – is that Chris is always looking into the worst of humanity and chooses to see the best. Privately, Leon thinks Chris did the same with him although he knows that Chris wouldn't phrase it that way.

When it comes to Claire, Leon just can't help but still feel like an imposter, like he's the one who killed the rookie cop that Claire met and came in his stead. He and Claire had struggled through many of the same realities of a BOW world at the same time, together. But he feels like he jumped into the abyss with Wesker, gone too dark to be near Claire without burnishing her as well. 

Listening to her choke on Wesker's poison is still one of the worst of his nightmares. 

But the fact remains: He still loves her. He misses her. And she has never stopped trying to see him. He's been reminded time and time again that he's worked hard to be a good person for her again, and he's allowed to let himself realize that.

“No,” Leon assures Chris. “It's time.” He's still scared, but he's realized it's not going to get any easier. 

…

Their plan is to make dinner for Claire. It's a wonderful disaster. Chris slices the side of his finger open while chopping up vegetables for the salad, and while Leon applies pressure to it in the bathroom, their garlic bread burns and the water for the pasta boils over. 

“Well, fuck,” Chris says, taking in the state of their kitchen. Leon can't help but laugh. Moments like this happen too often: where they learn all the things they missed out in their early 20s while they were busy chasing monsters. 

They're charmingly close to normal now. Leon loves it. 

Chris orders takeout from the restaurant around the corner in his clunky French. 

They have rituals now – all sorts, to chase away whatever demon might be lurking. A common one – one they “play” more and more often these days – is “what if.” Leon will never go back into the field. That's never been a discussion. Officially, he's still dead in the eyes of the U.S. government. He'd never pass the psych screening to join the BSAA.

But Leon had assumed that Chris would go back eventually, but the longer he's out of the fight, the more he seems to enjoy being out of it. 

(“I want as much time with you as I can get now,” Chris tells him in the middle of the night, kissing him quietly. “If the BSAA can't run without me now, we didn't build it right.”)

Leon is floored by this confession. He wonders if he feel should feel guilty. But mostly he does want this domestic life too. He can't handle the idea of Chris being half a world away and fighting while Leon waits to see if Chris comes home or not. 

Leon had been dazed at first, coming alive again, with what he was supposed to do. He'd never known anything other than trying to protect good people and fighting against bad people. He doesn't know who he is without that. So, in some ways, it's easier when Chris is trying to figure that out too. Neither of them has a concrete answer to that just yet.

So, they'll do “what if.” What if we traveled for a year? What if we went off the grid? What if we sneaked back into the United States? And they'll answer with anything that comes to mind, no matter how ridiculous, and build off of that, rolling out a potential picture of life. They've owned farms, and Leon has taken up photography, and Chris has made up a few bands. They've moved in next door to Claire and opened up animal shelters. They've gotten matching tattoos. They've gotten married once in every country. 

Most of the time, they're silly with it. Every now and then, they discover a genuine seed of an idea. 

“What if we stayed here?” Leon asks. He watches the smile bloom, amused, on Chris' face.

“I'd have to take French lessons,” Chris answers. “Everyone would still know I'm a dumb American, but at least I'd be able to hold a decent conversation.”

“We'd get plants for the balcony,” Leon parries.

“I'd kill them.” 

“I'd save them,” Leon challenges. “We'd get a cat.”

“I'd ride a bicycle down to the farmers market,” Chris says. “I'd learn the names of vegetables in English _and_ French.”

“I'd learn to bake bread,” Leon adds. “We'd become wine snobs.” 

“I'd rather be food snobs,” Chris laughs. 

Leon's chest swells with warmth.

“I love you,” he say, because he can. Because he's still capable of feeling love and because he's still capable of speaking his own words. He knows that won't be their future, but the banter has, once again, accomplished its intended goal: Leon wants _a_ future.

Chris turns so that Leon can see his whole face. The smile he's wearing lights Leon up. Leon tells him he loves him all the time now, but Chris is still amazed every time because he also believed that he'd never hear Leon say those words again. 

They're building something.

The doorbell rings, and Leon can't help but tense. 

Chris makes note of it, squeezes his hand briefly, and then heads to the door. 

He opens it and then there's Claire. Leon remains where he is, stranded. Claire is obviously about to say something to Chris, a teasing expression on her face. But the moment her eyes land on Leon, that pretense falls away. Her smile drops. She strides across the room and wraps her arms tightly around Leon, drawing him as close as she can manage.

Leon's eyes immediately shut. He doesn't care much for being touched anymore. He can really only deal with Chris and that's only because he's had a lot of time and patience with Chris. 

But this is different. Despite Leon's anxiety, something in him just gives right away. Claire is soft and fierce in front of him. He's held her image on flickering screens in his mind for years now, but her actual presence has dispelled the ghostly idea he made of her. He clings back. She's so alive.

She cries a little and then pulls away from him so that she can see his face. She still doesn't put much distance between them, though, and Leon keeps a hand on her waist.

“Fuck,” she says, smearing her tears away with the heels of her palms. “Sorry. I wasn't supposed to do that, was I?”

“Which bit?” Leon asks. He pauses for a moment and then thumbs away one of her tears as well. 

“Any of it,” she says, laughing wetly. “Losing my shit immediately. Crying. Grabbing you.” 

“It's okay,” Leon says, smiling a little. He doesn't know the nuance of it, but he knows she likely did get a lot of direction from his therapist. She's been told a lot of what Chris knows about his experience. Chris always checked first, but he usually shared with Claire, especially when it came to the ways Wesker used Claire against Leon. 

“I just missed you,” Claire says. “I missed you so much, Leon.” He believes her. In so many ways, their love is simpler than his and Chris'. He and Chris have to build and sustain something at every point. They have to negotiate each other and heal each other. 

He and Claire are just all-encompassing. They're a blanket, they're warmth, they're support. If Chris is his heart, Claire is his home. The first he needed to heal. The second, he needed time to go back to.

“I know,” Leon says quietly. “I'm sorry I made you wait so long.”

“It doesn't matter,” Claire says immediately. She leans in to hug him tight again – this time, a gesture of love instead of fear that he would disappear in front of her. 

“Thank you for surviving,” she whispers in his ear. “Thank you for coming back.”

“Thank you for being here,” Leon answers, pulling back so that he can cup her face in between his hands. Wesker, of course, used that exact sentiment as a weapon all the time: they would still love him no matter how inhuman he became. They would blind themselves to him and allow him to hurt them. Maybe he was right. But Leon thinks, most days, that Chris was more right. That Chris found him underneath all the hurt and violence and dirt that Wesker had buried him in; Chris didn't accept who and what Wesker had made him into. He simply believed that Leon could keep changing. He proved that to Leon and helped him through it. Is helping him through it. And now Claire is here too.

In the background, Chris sniffles.

A big grin blooms across Claire's face, and she pivots, her arm around Leon's waist so that they can face Chris together. His eyes are obviously red and watery.

“Aw, Christopher,” Claire says, beckoning him over with her open arm. “Come here.” 

Chris does, and Claire envelops both of them in a tight hug, her happiness radiating through all of them.

“My brothers,” she says. 

Leon clings hard to the moment, so in love with both of them. His family. He still doesn't feel like he deserves all of this love, but as his therapist is always quick to remind him, he's fought with everything he is to be back in moments like this. 

They stand together like that for several minutes before Chris clears his throat. 

“I have to go get the food,” he says. Leon nods to reassure Chris that they'll be find on their own for a little while. 

Chris heads off and Leon shows Claire around the apartment. She marvels at everything, a light smile on her face, her fingertips tracing the trappings of a life that Chris and Leon never expected. 

“Christ, you have a lot of books,” Claire says, going through their bookshelves. It's true. Before this, neither Leon nor Chris had much time or attention for reading.

“Chris reads to me,” Leon says, and Claire shoots him an amused look over her shoulder. She's probably placing too much romantic sentiment into the admission. But there are some days when everything in Leon's head sounds like Wesker's voice. So it's easier to have something to replace it with – Chris reading aloud whatever book is the latest fad. 

Their apartment is strangely cluttered for lacking a lot of personal touch. There are a few photographs, but Leon's skin still gets too tight if he sees too much of who he was before. So, there's a candid shot of the night they met, two photos that Claire took at their wedding. Most of their space is filled with the remnants of hobbies and activities they've tried: they have a pair of bikes, which they do use. Tennis rackets from lessons that Chris had little patience for but Leon would be willing to try again. Hiking boots and some camping gear, which they had both enjoyed. Puzzles and even some needlework, which both of them had trouble sitting still long enough to do. Canvas and paint brushes – which Chris had been surprisingly good at using. 

Claire continues to smile faintly as she takes it all in.

“I'm not trying to make light of the situation,” she says, holding one of Chris' paintings out in front of her. “But I don't think you fully realize how good this part of it has been for Chris. He's finally getting a chance to figure out who he is and what he wants without having to take care of the whole world.” 

Leon doubts that for a moment, because he still feels like Chris is taking care of him more days than not. But Claire raises an eyebrow at him.

“Can we not pretend that you needing support is the same thing as him raising me when he was still a kid himself? Or always being on a mission to save the world?”

Leon smiles a little.

“Yeah,” Leon agrees. “We can do that.”

Claire smiles back briefly.

“Really,” she insists. “I think we'd all rather you were safe and sound with Chris the whole time, but I'm so glad you guys are getting a chance to focus on each other and finding a good life. If anyone deserves it, it's you two. You've done enough.” She probably has no idea how much her sentiment echoes what Chris said to him over and over again when Leon was shaking and lost.

“Did we?” Leon asks faintly. 

“Yes,” Claire answers, stalwart. “Fuck anyone who thinks you owe this your entire life and death.”

“There's my girl,” Leon can't resist teasing, and Claire preens under the attention. 

“Tell me about you,” Leon urges. He doesn't want to just go over his life. 

She does. She tells him about the guys she's dated – and the one girl. She teases that she misses his judgement when it comes to her boyfriends. She tells him about the places she's traveled, fixating more on the places she's been on vacation than the places she's been to help clean up after outbreaks. She tells him about the places she's helped save, though, and the bills she's helped pass that will save even more people. 

Chris comes home in the middle of all of this, and they move to the table, digging in. Chris opens up a bottle of wine for Claire, and she goes in on it while Chris has a glass. The longer Claire talks, the more loose the atmosphere becomes. The Redfields engage in their verbal sparring – Leon could honestly spend hours listening to the two of them when they get like that, because it's clear they love each other so much. And he's a part of them again. 

“I want to go out dancing one night while I'm here,” Claire insists, a little drunk, as they start in on dessert.

Chris looks like he's about to protest, aware that Leon is unlikely to want to be in such a close crowd, but Leon relents anyway.

“We could do that,” Leon agrees. Claire absolutely beams at him and starts in on another tangent about how he's such a better dancer than Chris, and Claire can't take him anywhere, _honestly._

It's well after midnight by the time they pack Claire up to head back to her hotel for the night. Leon feels a little weird about having her stay at a hotel, but they had been worried that Leon would need some breathing air and time to process. Next time she comes, she'll stay with them, Leon decides. 

She leans heavily into him when she goes to leave, clutching him once again.

“I love you so much,” she says warmly into his neck. “I know we don't have a beautiful once-in-a-lifetime love like you and Chris, but I love you so much.”

“We _do_ have a beautiful once-in-a-lifetime love,” Leon corrects. “I just don't want to get into your pants.” Claire laughs against his neck. “And I love you so much, too, Claire.” The last part is a little softer, and Claire doesn't miss the change in tone. Because they both now know, for sure, there is nothing that Leon wouldn't do for her. It's a darker and heavier knowledge than they both thought it would be. 

She kisses Leon on the cheek, punches Chris in the arm, and heads out into the night. 

“All right?” Chris asks quietly after she's gone, closing the door behind her.

Leon is quiet for a moment. There are no automatic answers between them. No pretenses that everything is okay when it's not. 

But, in this case: “Yes,” Leon answers. Instead of churning turmoil, he feels lighter somehow. Protected by Claire Redfield's ferocious love.

Leon goes to Chris and loops his arms around Chris' neck and kisses him gently. He'll spend the rest of his days thanking Chris for saving him, and he knows that Chris will spend the rest of his thanking Leon for being willing to go on, for still trying when everything felt like darkness and loss. 

“I love you,” Leon murmurs against Chris' mouth. 

“Let's go to bed,” Chris suggests, and Leon nods. They'll go to bed together and remind each other how bodies can physically express love. They'll fall asleep close and exhausted and as near to one as they've ever been. And tomorrow will be another day. It might be another fight, because there is always another fight. But Leon has never forgotten what he's fighting for. And more and more these days, he's winning. More and more these days, he comes out with more joy than sorrow, more promise than despair.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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> \-- “<3” as extra kudos  
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